Telling Her Father
by wrestlefan4
Summary: I have to tell him that I got HIS young daughter pregnant. I know I'm dead. My tombstone will read: Here lies the poor s.o.b. who knocked up The Undertaker’s daughter. Oneshot


Telling Her Father

Out of all the girls I chose her. But who could really blame me? She's smart, funny, sexy, and absolutely amazing in every way. Some days she's gothic and some days she's emo. Other times she's just random but I like it. Her hair is soft and dark and red, it brings out her gray-green eyes which captivate me with their sparkle. Her lips are full and pouty and often upturned in a smile, her skin is like fine white silk and on her hip is that little tattoo her best friend gave her, the one her dad doesn't know about. Her dad…the man I am about to face.

Gracie thought it would be best if I told him and for some reason I agreed feeling that it was the 'man' thing to do. Some man I've turned out to be I've spent nearly ten minutes cowering ad shivering on the doorstep. I had it planned out exactly how I was going to say it but my mind is running so fast I can barely remember that I need to breathe once in a while or else I'm going to just pass out. I mean what would you do if you were dating The Undertaker's sixteen year old daughter and you got her pregnant?

_Knock…knock…_

My hands shake so bad I can barely rap on the door. I shove them into my pockets and the tremors course up my arms and throughout the rest of my body. I must be insane, what in the name of God am I doing? This is what you're doing, you're standing out on the steps shuttering and overheating and as soon as he opens the door you're going to hurl on him. No, please no don't let that happen.

"Hey, come in."

Luckily Gracie came to the door. She bites her lip and glances over to her father who is sitting on the couch. Her fingers go to her lips and she bites on her nails. I try to swallow away my fear but it feels like I'm choking on cotton. Gracie hurries over and sits in a chair with her legs crossed underneath her. I send up some silent prayer hoping someone or something will hear. But then again, something was obviously out to get me the night the condom broke. I take a deep breath and hope that my voice doesn't come out wobbly or pitched high in terror.

"Mr…Calaway…I have to…um…" Nice, that was just awesome.

"What's going on?" He turns his eyes up to me and before I can tell myself not to react, I flinch, which signals his face to go grim. "Is something wrong?"

"N-no..well, sort of…it's—it's…"

My stomach flips and flops as the big man glares at me harder and harder. My brain goes through all sorts of horrible scenarios of what will happen when I finally tell him. I can picture him drawing his thumb across his throat, rolling his eyes white, and choke-slamming me into the glass coffee table. Maybe that won't happen, maybe he'll tombstone me and then bury my body in his back yard. Maybe he'll do worse. After all, I have done the unthinkable to his little girl.

"Gracie…is…I mean we're…" So now my voice has lost its composure. It's his eyes, I think those eyes could make Zeus go pale and stuttery. As for me, I'm sweating through my shirt and am about scared shitless.

"What are you trying to say boy? If you have something to say go ahead."

"P-puh-pre-preg--"

Just when I think I couldn't be any more afraid, he stands up slowly until he's to his full height, all of him looming over me like an angry volcano on the verge of belching lava and destroying all the tiny, meaningless, people who cower beneath its shadow.

"Puh-puh-plea-please sir don't hurt me!" I back away as he steps closer, closer, towering over me like death its self. There's a forceful bump as I hit the wall. Shit, I've backed myself into a corner. My heart thuds wildly like hooves of terrified horses and my eyes grow even wider as he raises his fist in front of his chest and cracks his knuckles. I can see it now. I'll be nothing but a grease spot on his floor that used to be a seventeen year old boy.

"I'm not going to hurt you boy." He tilts his head slightly downward and the light cast dark shadows under his brow and along the deep creases in his face. The most awful expression I have ever seen crosses his face and it says I'm done for. "No, I won't hurt you. I'll _kill_ you."

My tombstone will read: Here lies the poor s.o.b. who knocked up The Undertaker's daughter. Everything's spinning…dizzy…going black…

"Wake up baby."

"Shit, I didn't mean to scare him that bad."

I open my eyes and at first everything's a bit blurry. Gracie and Mark are leaning over me and I try to scoot away quickly.

"Mr. Calaway! I'm sorry please it wasn't on purpose! I'm going to get a job and—and-and--"

"Calm down, it's okay boy."

He's smiling, why in the hell is he smiling? I'm only further confused when Gracie claps her hand over her mouth to stifle some giggles. I look from one face to the next and suddenly her father just burst out into the most booming fit of laughter I've ever heard and it scares me just as much as his anger did, maybe even more.

"W-what's going on?"

"I'm so sorry baby!" Gracie wipes some tears from her eyes and tries to calm her laughing fit. "I'm not really pregnant."

"You're…not?"

She shake's her head no and bites down on her lip guiltily.

"April Fools sweetie."

I would so kill her if I didn't love her…and if she wasn't The Undertaker's daughter.

:) _I was just thinking how bad it would suck to have to tell Mark that you got his young daughter pregnant, lol I couldn't even imagine. _


End file.
